Act of Contrition
by it's pronounced 'lowlight
Summary: Him against the world. The world against him. Maybe there was some hope for this lost soul after all. A quick oneshot about Mello and his rosary


**So…this has been in my head for about a year now.**

**Summary: Ever wonder how, and why, Mello got a rosary? If you pay attention, he didn't have it when we saw him at Wammy's, but he had it when he was in the Mafia. This is my theory as to what happened.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mello, or Death Note. T.T**

_Watch Over Me, Please_

He had done it.

He had done the very thing that he had left Wammy's House for.

Mello, with some difficulty, had joined the most famous mafia in all of Los Angeles, California. Of course, the price to pay was severe; he had to organize a successful takeover of a rival mafia, and kill any survivors. Mello felt shaken up, destroyed, like he betrayed something, some_one_ up there. He felt like he could never be forgiven by Matt, by his parents, by Roger, by Wammy.

By _L_.

If L was not dead, Mello wouldn't have left Wammy's House. So, after the successful operation, Mello put the blame on L, so as to not feel the guilt of murder.

Yet it was still there.

It wouldn't leave him alone. The endless torture, sleepless nights. It wasn't enough of a reward, of an act of contrition.

A very serious belief in the Catholic church. Mello had never been truly religious. He had felt complete without the need to depend on someone other than himself. Or Matt.

But now, Mello felt hollow, split. One side of his mind was the same shy, lost orphan found by Wammy in Russia, that late cold night. And so, to clear the steam in a sixteen-year-old's head, Mello left the mafia headquarters for the main district of L.A.

Walking quickly down the sidewalk, brushing past people, not caring to be polite and apologize, Mello kept his head down and followed the traffic of tourists and late-night commuters returning to their families. Something that Mello would never have.

Many lights and sounds were screaming at him, and he ignored them. Except for one lone shop, tucked away at the corner of an alley and the main sidewalk. Sitting on a lavish display, was a rosary of garnet stones and a silver cross. While simple in design, the rosary caught Mello's attention immediately. He felt drawn to it, like something was calling him towards it.

_Maybe_, Mello thought_, just maybe, someone really is up there listening to all of these prayers. Maybe someone does care about insignificant little me. Maybe this is a sign._

So Mello ducked into the shop and bought it immediately, hoping for some comfort in is newfound belief.

* * *

><p>"Now, how do I use you?" Mello asked quietly while holding his new rosary up to his face. The way the garnets flashed, the way the cross spun slowly, it all seemed mesmerizing. Mello had barely enough time to notice that he was about to walk into a pole.<p>

"Gah," he cried out in frustration. "Stupid piece of - ″ and stopped short.

Mello found himself in front of a church. A simple church, no noticeable, garish designs. Just a simple brick church with a white-washed roof and small belltower.

_Maybe this can help_, Mello thought. So, he meandered into the church.

The pews were plain brown wood, the altar was a plain brown table with a white cloth, and the walls were white. What caught Mello's attention was the giant stained-glass window behind the altar, depicting a risen Christ in all of His glory. Mello was caught in reverie of a time once past, a time of Russian holidays and celebrations, and didn't notice the priest behind him. Not wanting to disturb this new young worshipper, decided to leave as quietly as hi came.

Mello, drawn from his thoughts by a brush of wind on his shoulder, looked around. After noticing no one there, Mello sat in the first pew with a somber expression on his face. Wrapping the rosary around his hands, he placed his elbows on his knees.

And prayed.

_Um_, Mello began. _I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I was hoping for some guidance from the supposed deity up there…_

And so, his act of silent contrition began.

**The End. Yay :) Hope you liked it.**


End file.
